Gift of Light_A Powered Destinies stand-alone novel Page 16

  “It might help if you scout ahead,” she said as she passed the former zoo’s imposing sculpted Elephant Gate. “You know what the color of my lights means, right? The two of us are going for some serious mackerel fishing. I don’t know the reason, but my power thinks there’s a good chance we’ll both end up dead.”

  His hesitation lasted long enough to reveal he wasn’t aware of the exact extent of her powers. “The two of us?” he repeated.

  “Right. You’re coming along to help me out, so the spheres are attuned to both of us.” The lie came easily.

  A moment of silence followed.

  “Wait here. Don’t move an inch until I tell you so,” Smoker said.

  The air stirred and a sweaty strand of hair tickled her cheek. She held her breath and waited, listening for movement or powers and detected nothing. After another moment of wondering how fast he moved in his incorporeal form, she took the plunge and pulled the pencil and the small notepad from her pants pocket, ripped the top page away, and scribbled down two separate messages on two slips of paper.

  The first one read: Fill this rucksack with bank notes. Don’t talk to me and don’t trigger an alarm. No one gets hurt.

  She put the paper slip in her pocket and listened for sounds or movement one more time. After convincing herself that Smoker hadn’t returned yet, she scribbled down the second, slightly longer message on the other notepaper.

  I’m being forced to do this. Send a hero to the top of the old Emperor Wilhelm bell tower to take the money back. Urgent: Conglomerate villains active in the city.

  That was it. She would have liked to add more but couldn’t risk it. What she had would have to do. And if the second note failed to trigger a Covenant investigation of Dead City, the drone camera should do the trick once Max finished repairing it.

  Wisp folded the paper before shoving the notepad and pencil back into her pockets. She placed the shorter note on top of her notepad so it was easy to retrieve in a hurry. The other she put into a different pocket. She adjusted her long shirt that concealed her gun. As much as she appreciated having a memento of her father’s along for the ride, she didn’t want to draw it. Especially not on innocent bank employees.

  After two or three minutes of tense anticipation, a subtle change in air pressure revealed Smoker’s return. She did her best to look inconspicuous while he slowly emerged into physical form. The wall was just two kilometers away. If he had gone far enough east to look on the other side of the wall, his incorporeal self could fly much faster than she could run. Good to know.

  “Find anything?”

  He peered at her from narrowed eyes. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Come on.”

  Of course, he hadn’t spotted anything unexpected. The trap was set for only her, and chances were he knew about it. He just didn’t want to get dragged down alongside her.

  “Good to know.” She continued down the road, picking up her pace. “This could mean that whatever I’m about to do has dangerous aftereffects. This is my test, so if you want to stay safe, try not to get too involved.” What she actually meant was: stay back and don’t get anyone hurt.

  “Wasn’t planning to,” he said. “I’m here to watch, not to save your ass.”

  She bit her lip and said nothing. They moved along, Wisp scanning abandoned storefronts and shadowy corners for any signs of danger while Smoker flanked her. Her thoughts kept drifting in one direction: why? Why did she have to undergo this ‘test,’ and who stood to gain anything from it? If she ended up getting shot by the police, what was the point? To throw her powers back into the mysterious pool newly transitioned Evolved got their abilities from?

  No, that made even less sense than Hannah’s kidnapping. Compared to the cool, flashy, and useful powers other Evolved flaunted on television screens, hers fell into ‘jamboree with real magic’ territory. She couldn’t think of a single reason why a group of actual supervillains would be interested in returning them to the pool.

  Fact was, though, that the Conglomerate had developed some kind of interest in her. Constantine had little to nothing to do with this. He had never felt particularly threatened by her, and judging by his reaction when she put a gun against his neck, the reckless stunt had earned her respect rather than ire. She couldn’t even begin to imagine why he’d want her dead.

  Maybe this really is meant to be a trial by fire, she mused. If the Conglomerate had somehow gotten the impression that she could be converted to the dark side, then the ever-elusive Data – its leader – may have an interest in speaking to her. Nothing would get the Covenant heroes on the scene faster than a drone-transmitted picture of that guy.

  “Over there,” Smoker said, scattering her thoughts. “Into the parking garage and down the stairs. We’re crossing the wall underground.”

  After several minutes of walking, the New Berlin wall now loomed a short distance ahead, a monstrosity of steel and concrete that was both taller and sturdier than the old wall had been back in the early eighties. She remembered a little less than a year ago when the wall had been nothing more than a hastily assembled metal skeleton crowned by jagged spikes, like a steel cage to seal off southwest Berlin. Not long afterward, the government added concrete reinforcements and high-voltage barbwire to keep people from looting Dead City, and prevent the Smog from spilling into other parts of the country. The wall was a testament to Germany’s fear of superpowers gone terribly wrong. Whenever she looked at it, Wisp felt a fragment of this fear pinch her stomach. She was as much German as the people who had built this monstrosity, and she’d had first-hand experience what happened when superpowers did go wrong. The afterimages of the first Deadening had burned themselves into her soul for all eternity.

  To her right, the broken glass entryway to an underground parking garage loomed among scattered pieces of vulgar graffiti. Her pulse quickened but she held it under control, held on to the invisible mask that infused her with courage. She was going to do this. She’d outwit her danger beacons and find a way to survive the odds.

  “A moment,” she said, not yet passing the doorway.

  The wall reached high for her to see and dispatch a light to the other side, but there was a tall apartment building across the street from the parking garage, equipped with long lines of cast stone balconies that faced the New Berlin Wall. She picked the one closest and high enough to be visible from the other side, then dispatched a light to use it for an escape in case of emergency

  “Are you done?” Smoker’s voice rasped, far too close for comfort.

  She winced and was immediately annoyed at herself for letting him get to her.

  “Let’s go.” She stepped through the broken doorway, shards of glass crunching beneath her boots. The stairs down were located next to the inactive elevator and looked reasonably safe. She descended slowly, watching her step. Her two remaining spheres drifted along and lit the way. One story down, only a narrow sliver of daylight broke through the gap between the stairs. The spheres cast a deep shade of mandarin over the blotchy concrete walls and the heavy-looking white paneled door that blocked her view of the parking area. From the color, she determined that she had about fifteen minutes left.

  Whatever is going to happen, it’s not happening down here. She put her hand on the door handle and pulled. The bank is the trap.

  She strained to hold the heavy door open and slipped through, a whoosh of old, musty air rushing past her into the darkness ahead. A strong smell of neglect and decay assaulted her senses. She moved forward across the dirty asphalt, extending her spheres ahead of herself. Combined with her enhanced vision, they provided enough light to navigate the darkness toward the exit Smoker indicated.

  After a walk of a minute, she reached another door that was identical to the one she had passed on her way in. As heavy as the first, but she managed to push it open without difficulty. Beyond it was another dark stairwell and the broken remains of a brick wall that had sealed the parking garage before someone came along and tore it down.

/>   Are the people doing okay over there? Wisp wondered as she stepped through the door. The stairwell leading up to East Berlin loomed ahead of her, filled with dust and silence. Daylight filtered down from the city that waited a few meters above, but no human voices. No sounds. The question she had asked herself flew back at her like a ricochet: the rumors Luca had heard were not wrong. The other half of the city was dying, too.

  “Good job, little snail.” There was a thread of mockery to Smoker’s words. “You’ve crawled most of the way, now all you need to do now is go up the stairs. It’s a two-minute crawl to the bank. You’re not planning to get lost on the way there, are you?”

  Nope. I have to take a look beyond the wall.

  Wisp untied the rain jacket from her waist and slipped into it, then pulled the blue plastic hood over her head and stuffed her hair up underneath it. The less people and security cameras saw of her, the better. If there was anyone left. There had to be. The strip closest to the wall had been abandoned first, she assumed. Who would want to live this close to the Smog?

  She didn’t want to think about how much her disguise clashed with the warm weather, or how much she was going to stick out among actual people. But Smoker did.

  He snorted a laugh, causing the air to vibrate around him. “Are you going up there like this?”

  The question rattled her already fragile confidence. She lacked the anger to pretend she knew what she was doing, and she was painfully aware of how ignorant and under-prepared she was. Her outfit looked ridiculous. People were going to stare, point fingers, and know right away something weird was going on. The more she thought about how much she didn’t fit in, the more impossible her mission seemed.

  Still, she had to keep moving forward, charge ahead and keep pretending she had it all planned out. It was the only thing she knew how to do. Offer a reassurance she herself lacked.

  “I’m not going to run into any Smog, am I?” Wisp pulled the cheap sunglasses from her pocket and slid them over her eyes, feeling glad to have something to hide behind.

  “Are you expecting to?”

  Wisp shrugged and turned her attention to the floating spheres. One of them she split into three marble sized orbs and directed those into the cuff of her opaque rain jacket sleeve. In there, hidden from anyone without superhuman perception, they only demanded a little bit of her attention.

  “Let’s go.” Wisp grabbed the empty rucksack and climbed the stairs, taking the steps one by one.

  The distant sound of a honking car horn drifted from above. Once she climbed high enough to poke her head into the sunlit lobby with its elevator and vending machines, a set of floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a cutout of Berlin as she remembered it: a bicycle shop with clean, shiny windows and a newsstand with a well-stocked display of newspapers and magazines.

  The road looked deserted. Her uncertainty grew and she stopped, feet glued to the uppermost stair step. After a small eternity of digging around for her bandana, she managed to tie it over her mouth and nose with sweaty, clumsy hands. Yet another barrier to hide behind.

  No one’s going to recognize me like this. The thought gave her the courage to climb the last steps to the lobby. Look, Dad, I’m not giving up. Still moving forward and saving Hannah.

  “Should have saved the bandana for later,” Smoker pointed out. “It makes you look like a small-town gangster. People are going to stare.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Right or left?” she asked.

  “Go right. Can’t miss the bank if you keep following the road.”

  She pushed the door open and stepped outside, exposing herself to the sunlight and a summer breeze that smelled cleaner and fresher on this side of the wall, the absence of Smog so exhilarating she wanted to keep standing there and get drunk on the outside world scent. A hint of freshly prepared food wafted past and her mouth watered, remembering the taste of Grandma’s cooking from forever ago.

  The sound of the door clicking shut behind her startled her back into action. As expected, Smoker was nowhere to be seen. Shadowing her in ghost mode. She hoped with all her heart he wasn’t going to escalate the bank robbery into a full-on supervillain attack with human casualties.

  After giving herself another push forward, she continued down the road leading away from the wall, doing her best to ignore the shop windows and wall posters that were trying to grab her attention. Pushing aside the teasers of a life that was no longer hers. Instead she looked around for people, spotting the occasional passersby in a hurry to get someplace else.

  Each person discovered improved her mood a little, made it easier to keep going. The city hadn’t been abandoned yet. People still lived here, meaning the bad guys hadn’t driven out everyone else. Not yet.

  No one had more than a glance for the short young woman who hid her face behind sunglasses and a bandana. Most people she passed looked far more interested in the handful of stores that were still open, and even the raised rain hood only earned her a few blank stares.

  Wisp hurried along, equal parts relieved and concerned by the absence of police and security forces. This close to the wall, there should have been patrols. She couldn’t help but wonder if the government already had plans to evacuate the northeastern neighborhoods. It would certainly explain why the parking garage breach hadn’t been patched back up.

  By the time she spotted the Postbank building on the left side of the street, the spheres inside her sleeve had turned a light shade of crimson and she paused to do another scan of the area.

  Fortunately, the area surrounding the bank looked deserted for the most part. A young woman in sports clothes was walking a dog along the right side of the road. A broad-shouldered man with a long brown braid occupied one of the tables outside a small café, an open book in front of him. He appeared to be the only patron. Apart from the obvious lack of city life and traffic, there was nothing unusual about the scenery. No police presence whatsoever. Nothing to indicate a deadly trap.

  The false peace made Wisp’s skin crawl. Whatever it was that was going to happen to her, she would have preferred to see it coming, give herself time to consider rather than react on autopilot. If she wanted to survive, she had to ditch the seemingly obvious options and act irrational, doing what she normally wouldn’t do and betray the expectations of her danger beacons.

  There could be a SWAT team waiting inside the bank, she told herself as she ducked into a covered back alley near the bank building, dismissing the idea almost instantly. No, the police – most likely alerted by an anonymous tip from a ‘concerned citizen’ – would lie in wait to catch her red-handed. She had trouble believing they’d shoot her on sight. Even now, in the day and age of bank robbers who could liquefy bystanders by sneezing at them, the police still issued warnings first.

  After making sure no one was paying attention to her, she released two of her three spheres from the rain jacket sleeve, then slid the sunglasses down her nose and beckoned the pair of lights toward her eyes. They drifted closer and closer until they filled her eye sockets completely, giving them a fake demonic glow. The brightness should have blinded her but didn’t. These were her lights. She couldn’t have used them for self-harm even if she’d intended to.

  Next, she slid the sunglasses back in place, saving her pretend power for the right moment. With any luck, no one was about to associate glowing red demon eyes with an Evolved girl named Wisp.

  The third sphere stayed inside her sleeve as she slipped out of the alley and back onto the street. From where she was standing, the Postbank – a blocky two-story building with dark brown walls – presented a set of small, unadorned windows to her. The one closest to the entrance would be connected to the lobby, the only part of the building she needed to enter. As in every other bank she’d ever been in, the teller booths would be arranged around the lobby, close enough to the windows to allow for a quick getaway from the inside.

  For that reason, Wisp split her third sphere into two smaller orbs, one of which she cast toward the nearest
window that had a view of the lobby. It zipped in the indicated direction and hovered there, its signal colored glow reflected in the window glass. The other sphere she kept to herself. It was a firefly spark the size of her thumbnail, easy to contain within her sleeve. A portable emergency escape in case the one she’d placed outside the lobby window was out of sight.

  “You probably want to keep your distance now,” Wisp said, hoping that Smoker was listening. “So you don’t get caught up in whatever’s triggering the danger alert.”

  What she actually meant to say was, don’t make this worse than it already is and please don’t read the written notes when I hand them over.

  She walked the rest of the way to the yellow-framed entrance and waited for the door to slide open. When it did, a wash of air-conditioned air flowed through the doorway, sending a chill across the summer sweat on her skin. Her fingers felt clammy and cold and her feet froze in place, refusing to cross over the doorstep.

  The lobby opened up before her, its marble floors and pastel-colored rotunda with the curving waiting benches cast in the fiery glare of her eye spheres. There were no clients inside. No one but the only teller, a lanky young man with curly brown hair who sat behind the only counter with an ‘open’ sign.

  I’m going to survive this. Wisp repeated the words as a mantra in her head as she made her way past the rotunda, approaching the counter with her rucksack in hand. The teller behind the counter settled his glasses-rimmed gaze on her. There was no surprise in his expression. It remained suspiciously neutral even as she slid the sunglasses down her nose, revealing the false demonic fire in her eyes.

  Yes, this guy had clearly received advance warning. Chances were he wasn’t your average bank employee either.

  Wisp kept to her role by holding the rucksack up in front of him, fishing the first note from her pocket, and placing the latter on top of the counter in plain view. A nagging feeling told her not to let go of the bag. It was Hannah’s life insurance, after all.